#I dunno something about people whos bodies contort and can change and lose sense of self and being Genderfluid speaks to me

[gilded-gheists]

Anyway Summer is Genderfluid and her slinky flesh powers help her explore her genderfluidity and body way more than she could before. Whilst it hurts sometimes and she constantly wonders if this is who she is in the mirror.

If the person staring back at him is the same person as who he was before he got his powers. If he's still the same person as he was before. If he's still Summer. Can he call himself summer? Can he really? Is he still summer?

But the morphing of her body constantly helps her so much with dysphoria on some days and Summer feels so happy to be alive.

[unicyclehippo]

Beaujester. 89?

89. “You’re holding back.”

//

there’s no way—and no point—to lie to dairon, but damn if beau isn’t gonna try.

‘no i’m not.’ nailed it.

dairon cocks their head to the side, eyes narrowing in a manner that is horribly familiar, what with beau having had the stuffing beaten out of her a dozen dozen times over after getting that exact look from her mentor.

‘care to revise that statement?’

‘no.’

‘hmm.’

dairon moves in a blur of speed, and it’s all beau can do to keep up; dodging and weaving, slapping attacks to the side and using dairon’s height against her, ducking down and into her space to come up and—dairon’s hands settle on either side of beau’s neck, light, sweet, fingers barely grazing over the thundering pulse.

‘too slow,’ she tells beau, who has only a moment to get out a choked,

‘oh fuck,’

before dairon’s hands slip up a fraction to place her thumbs just so beneath beau’s jaw, and where the fleshy triangle of muscle bridges neck and collar. beau’s body seizes and, in the moment before dairon’s stun wears off, she wanders behind beau and simply taps at those points they both know will force the truth out of her.

the stun washes out of her and beau sags, spins to face dairon, fists raised. spots blink across her vision momentarily and her thoughts slide sideways. her attack goes wide—inexcusably so—and dairon looks furious. she plants a hand on beau’s chest and shoves, sending her falling to the floor.

‘stay. there,’ dairon commands. ‘you and i are going to have a little chat.’

super, just what i wanted, beau tries to say, and finds the words choked before they can get out, those points of ki flaring and juddering painfully when she tries to lie. ‘you know this shit messes with my sarcasm?’ beau does manage to say.

‘good. at least some earthly force manages to do so. i had begun to despair.’

dairon settles beside her, snags beau by the collar and slams her down—not painfully, just forcefully—when she tries to make a break for it.

‘come now, beauregard, is an honest discussion so dreadful to you?’

‘yes.’

dairon blinks, a sign of true shock from them. ‘mm.’ they nod, fold their arms over their chest.

beau waits. feels the concentrated ki grip her system, destabilise the focus, the steadiness of her own. ‘what are you doing?’

‘waiting.’

‘what for?’

‘for it to wear off,’ dairon says, as though that should be obvious. ‘if it is....so distressing to you, i will not ask you questions now.’

‘...really?’

‘i am your teacher, beauregard, not your master, not your imprisoner. i can be harsh. i try not to be cruel.’

something tightly knotted inside beau’s chest eases a little. ‘okay.’ eventually, the effect ends and beau cracks the stiffness out of her neck and jaw. ‘let’s get this over with.’

‘impatient.’

‘surprising?’

dairon’s lips quirk upwards. ‘no.’ they take a moment to consider beau, with the same intensity they use in a fight but instead of that lightning intuition for where beau’s body will be, where she’ll move, dairon is looking at her.

‘see something you like?’

dairon ignores that. as always. ‘i will say this as gently as possible,’ they say, voice deadpan. ‘you fought like shit today.’

‘ow?’ beau jokes, but dairon doesn’t smile or relent.

‘you telegraphed your movement far ahead of moving, you were distracted, you pulled your punches. i am disappointed.’

‘oh.’

it’s a strange sinking feeling, like falling out of the sky. beau hardly feels the hard-packed sand beneath her as she falls, pulse rushing in her ears, her entire body going hot. she wonders distantly if this is some new kind of technique of the cobalt soul—advanced soul destroying, or something—as she tries to remember how to breathe, how to settle herself. her eyelids flutter.

nicodranas, the wide open ocean. blue as far as the eye can see.

‘i do not say this to be cruel, beauregard,’

‘i dunno, you managed it pretty well.’

‘i say it because i am concerned. you are better than this—you nearly beat me in that fight in the city of beasts,’

‘i did best you,’ beau is quick to deny. ‘i just pulled my punches so you didnt lose your disguise.’

dairon blinks. stares blankly at beau for a moment. ‘anyway,’ they say, tone crisp and staggeringly full of disbelief, ‘there is something troubling you. what is it?’

it’s potent, the want to talk to dairon. beau is sure a little of it has to do with minor internal bleeding and also the crushing, awful sense of disappointing her mentor. but that could be purposeful, dairon has shown clearly so many times they’re good at reading people, at manipulating them, and beau hasn’t exactly proved hard to manipulate in the past if one knows the buttons to push. and dairon has slammed the shit out of a half dozen of them in the last minute so...

an old, half-forgotten tendril of spite holds beau’s tongue still. dairon doesn’t seem to notice or mind, just sits and waits for beau to answer.

the minutes stretch on.

‘would tea help?’

‘who are you, caduceus? no.’

dairon shrugs. ‘very well. are you silent because you do not wish to tell me, or because you cannot find the words?’

‘i dunno.’ dairon lifts a brow. ‘both, i guess.’

oddly enough, admitting that makes dairon smile. ‘you are never easy, are you?’

‘i mean, depends on the context,’ beau tells her, waggles her brows until dairon puts their face in the palm of their hand. elegantly, gracefully, but inarguably face in palm. ‘but ah, no.’ she thinks about her mother and father telling her as much, those few people she had tried to befriend. her own team mates reminding her of her harsher, less tolerated qualities. ‘no,’ she admits, quietly. ‘i’m not.’

a warm touch on beau’s wrapped hands makes her start, but it is just dairon laying their hand on hers. they seem to find it as awkward as beau does because they pull back a moment later.

‘what is bothering you, beauregard?’

‘everything?’

‘tell me one thing,’ dairon instructs. ‘we shall work from there.’

‘what for? this isn’t - this isn’t necessary,’ she tells dairon, scratching at her neck, her undercut. ‘i’ll just do better next time.’

‘unless there is a change, you will not. that is not an insult, that is a fact. one improves from mistakes by assessing, learning, and changing accordingly. so. we assess.’ dairon nods, as if saying, go ahead.

beau feels that tightness in her throat again, the overwhelming pressure that seems to trip something in her, tells her the moment she says anything she can’t get that shit back. it’ll be out there, it’ll be real to more than just herself.

‘beauregard,’ dairon says quietly, dark eyes seemingly reading deep into beau’s stiff shoulders, the way her fingers catch together and twist hard, almost punishingly. ‘trust me. to be able to hear what you tell me and not use it against you.’

is that what she’s scared of? fuck. maybe it is.

‘i’m scared.’ beau has to force the words out. can’t quite look at dairon as she does. ‘all the time.’

‘of what?’

‘not being fast enough. strong enough.’

‘no,’ dairon shakes her head. ‘that isn’t it.’

‘oh, so you know what’s in my head now?’

‘i know fear. what happens if you aren’t strong or fast enough, beauregard?’

images flash through beau’s mind. caleb, with a legion of men behind him, their heads aflame. fjord, pressing an orb into his chest, his eyes turning the same colour, his body contorting and cracking and lengthening, scales hardening across green skin. nott, drowning. cad, wasting away. jester, taken. jester, hurt. jester, dying. jester,

‘i need to protect them,’ she says. ‘all of them. and i—‘ her eyes are burning, all of a sudden. it takes a moment to realise she is crying and her breath catches in horror, hands flinging up to hide the evidence, wipe the tears away. ‘i can’t,’ she tells dairon.

‘no, you can’t.’ dairon sets their hand on beau’s again. this time, she doesn’t move away. ‘you got attached,’ they add, tone without reproach.

beau snorts, a gross wet snort. ‘yeah. fuck.’

‘you got very attached.’ beau shrugs a shoulder, doesn’t deny it. ‘your jester is strong, beauregard. your group is strong. you must find a way to trust in that, to not let your fears over take you. it is much easier said than done,’ dairon confesses. ‘but you, you are capable. beyond capable. i have faith,’ she says simply. ‘and another half day to train you. up on your feet.’

[nekoabi]

On the Verge of a Heartbreak - Chapter 21

And we’re back to your semi-regularly scheduled stupid gays! KH3 was awesome and it was nice to take a break, but man, I was so excited to come back to this fic! I love it so much!

Pairings: Moxiety, OC/OC Words: 2376 Warnings: Food mention, Anxiety mention, Panic attack mention. Anything else, please let me know!

Summary: The brainstorming begins.

“Right!”

Patton jumped at the loud snap-like noise. He was a little confused as to how he’d managed to find himself squished between Asher and Reggie on Reggie’s sofa, along with Daniel and Thomas on the other sides of the two he was between while Sophia - smartly - sat on the floor in front of him, resting against his legs. He had almost no recollection of the events that had transpired since he’d been on the phone with Abigal, except the lingering feeling of dread that hung at the bottom of his stomach whenever he thought back to it.

But he didn’t have time to think about that right now. Abigal was standing in front of all of them with an extendable pointer stick, portable projector screen set up behind her and the projector whirring away on the shelf behind the rest of them. To the other side of her was a large wheeled whiteboard, one of the ones you could flip over for more space. She was looking exaggeratedly serious, the end of the pointer resting on the whiteboard. That cleared up Patton’s first question of where the hell that loud snapping noise come from.

“We’re all aware of why we’re here, correct?”

Everyone gave her various indications that they had little to no idea what she was talking about.

Abigal sighed dramatically and dropped her serious façade, “Are you all serious right now? Really?” She searched each of their faces but ultimately realised she’d have to explain, “We’re all here to figure out the best way for Patton to realise that he and Virgil are perfect for each other and how he can ask him out and when he should do it.”

“What?!” Patton squeaked.

“Patton. I told you about this. When we were on the phone. Keep up.”

Patton could feel himself getting flustered. Yes, he did remember Abigal saying they were going to have a brainstorming session, but he didn’t think it would be nearly this big… or have this many people involved.

Thomas put his hand up and Abigal pointed the stick in his direction, indicating he could speak, “What is the projector for, if we’re all brainstorming ideas?”

Abigal laughed haughtily, “Oh, sweet Thomas. Sweet, naïve little Thomas… You think I don’t already have some fantastic ideas that I’m going to share with you all?”

Everyone’s faces contorted into some form of horror or disbelief at her statement, all eyes watching her carefully as she moved behind them all to start up the presentation she’d worked on.

It felt like hours could have passed in the time it took Abigal to finish her ideas. There weren’t many and she definitely communicated them well in picture format in her presentation, but there was much to be desired in her verbal communication.

She naturally was a fast speaker, Patton had realised this long ago, but he’d never had a problem with it until today. He couldn’t keep up with her rambles about each of her ideas, especially as she was getting into the finest of details. It was just too much, too quick. Patton also began to notice that her habit of wildly veering off topic, which he would usually find endearing, was not suited for a presentation like this. Along with her fast pace, the twisting through many topics just confused Patton even more. Eventually, he semi-gave up listening to her and focused on what she had on the projector. Her notes and plans were detailed wonderfully on the screen and Patton appreciated it very much.

When it seemed she was never going to finish and at least an hour had actually passed, Patton felt the body to his left move off of the sofa. He watched as Reggie crossed the short gap over to Abigal.

“Excuse me! Please remain seated until the en- mmpfh!”

There was an immediate sense of relief as Abigal’s voice was cut off by Reggie kissing her. She immediately seemed to lose track of whatever she was doing as she didn’t push him off, instead she seemed to melt in Reggie’s arms that had come to hold her. Patton could feel how tense he’d clearly gotten as his muscles began to finally relax. He looked around at the rest of his friends, sharing looks and smiles with them all.

Sophia was the first to get tired of the couple in front of them, “Okay lovebirds, this isn’t how I wanted to spend my weekend. Let’s get to brainstorming.”

A few pouts and giggles later, Abigal moved the whiteboard in front of the projector screen. She flipped the board over to show that she’d already written her ideas down on that side, but had left a large space for the others to fill, “Right, so, what ideas do everyone else have?”

It began with more simple ideas than what Abigal had proposed in her presentation; things like using cliché romantic gestures like flowers or chocolates, writing a letter or something similar. All of the ones they agreed upon were added to the list, but several were dropped quickly - most of them being Reggie ideas that ranged from exceptionally stupid to borderline illegal.

“No way! A flash mob is an awful idea!” Patton stared incredulously at Reggie, practically in shock that he’d even suggest such a thing, “Firstly, it would give Virgil the biggest panic attack because he’d be the centre of attention!”

Reggie merely shrugged, “Okay, fine. Get the clowns to-”

Patton almost screeched, “NO!”

“Régis.” Abigal’s voice crossed through the madness, silencing the room as she glared across at her boyfriend, “Enough.”

Everyone’s eyes snapped back to Reggie. For the first time any of them could recall, the boy looked extremely shocked and unable to conjure up any retort. He gaped for a second, but then noticed all the eyes on him and attempted to compose himself again.

“How about…,” Asher broke through the now awkward tension of the room, “we ask Patton what Virgil likes?”

As everyone seemed to register what a good idea that would be, Asher turned and shared a gentle smile with Daniel. Patton could only assume it was Daniel’s idea but, as usual, he was a little too scared to speak his mind.

“Well… Virgil likes art a lot and music…” Patton began to list off things Virgil liked, ranging from his hobbies to things relating to his aesthetic and style. While he listed verbally, Abigal had turned and began scrawling down all the things on the opposite side of the whiteboard. By the time he’d finished everything he wanted to say, Patton could see that half of the board was now full of scribbles. “So… what now?”

“I guess we have to find something that can link what you want to do with what Virgil likes?” Thomas offered, reading over the list in front of them all.

More time passed as everyone tried their hardest to come up with an idea.

“What about working with his family and covering his room in post-in notes?” Abigal said, her eyes focused on the ceiling as she spoke.

Patton hummed in thought. He looked back towards his friend who had moved from standing next to the board to laying on the couch, resting against her boyfriend, “Well, why post-it notes?”

Abigal shrugged, “I dunno… something that can be kept or documented or something? Each one has something cute on it that you like about him, have one that’s a different colour that asks him out?”

“Awww… that’s so cute! But…”

Abigal groaned, “There’s always a but…”

“Virgil doesn’t like change and his stuff being different, it makes him really anxious, so that’s probably not a good idea…” Patton nibbled on the tip of his thumb as he thought, an apologetic look being sent to his friend.

Everyone around was either deep in thought or seemingly exhausted. Patton looked over all of his friends, before locking eyes with Reggie who seemed to be the only one truly awake. There was a silent plea for him to help which he easily responded to.

Reggie moved Abigal off of him, stood and then pulled her up off of the sofa, “We’ll go make lunch. Everyone okay with that?” There was a round of agreement before the pair wandered over into the kitchen.

This left Sophia, Asher, Thomas and Daniel left to come up with ideas. They all offered ideas that varied wildly, but each one Patton was able to shoot down because of something or another. Things like using a skywriter were more to do with the lack of funds and knowledge of how to organise such a thing, while other ideas were shot down due to Virgil’s high levels of anxiety and what would trigger him the most.

One of Sophia’s more reasonable ideas included getting people at school to help out with a scavenger hunt, but Daniel piped up before Patton had to.

“Uh, I don’t want to interrupt, but… that doesn’t sound like a good idea…” Daniel shuffled on the spot, “I mean, Patton had said that Virgil gets really anxious about a lot of things… and I see that he’d been anxious about talking with people… so that probably wouldn’t work?”

Patton quickly agreed, “Yeah, Virgil wouldn’t like that at all. Plus, he doesn’t really know a lot of people besides us.”

As the time wore on, Sophia was getting more and more frustrated with the constant excuses.

“Maybe you could write him something? A song?” Sophia offered testily from her spot laying on the floor.

Patton turned to her from where he stood in front of the board and frowned, “No… I don’t know how to do that, and I can’t play any instruments or anything…”

“Well, I’m out.” Sophia closed her eyes and sighed heavily. She began to mutter something to herself, but no one could make out what it was, and they weren’t exactly all that interested in figuring it out.

Daniel, who’d taken up the mantle of the new scribe, crossed off several of the notes written on the list. Patton’s frown deepened as he saw how little left they really had to go off of.

“Why is this so difficult?” Patton said to no one in particular.

“Probably because you’re making this way more complex than it has to be?” Asher offered helpfully, sounding exasperated. Patton looked back to them, his head tilting like a confused puppy, which prompted them to continue, “You can just, y’know… ask him out? Without all the fancy shit.”

Everything went silent. All noise dissipated as everyone in the room considered Sophia’s words, even the pair working in the kitchen had stopped. A few moments pass before a noise comes from the kitchen.

“Huh… never thought about that…”

Patton was almost sure if Sophia could have, her eyes would have rolled right out of her head, “Of course you never have, Reggie. You’re the most extra fucking person we know.”

“Taking that as a compliment!” Reggie threw back in an attempt at a sing-song voice.

“Of course you would!” Sophia mocked his tone with her response.

Patton was still thinking over what she’d said. He could just ask Virgil out, but was that what he wanted to do? It didn’t feel special, but then… maybe that’s what could make it even more special? He turned and looked at the board with all their ideas scribbled across it, raking his eyes across all the work they’d put in.

Then something clicked. He didn’t know what sparked it but Patton suddenly had a vivid memory of sitting with his brother a few years back, the year before Patton had started high school. They were sat on his brother’s bed, flicking through some books together. There were some beautiful flowers sat on the desk and Patton had asked about them, moving to get a better look at them. Roman had immediately stopped him but explained what they were. He then went on to ask if Patton knew about the language of flowers.

“No, what’s that?” Patton had asked, staring at the beautiful dark blue flowers that sat on the desk.

“It’s exactly what you think it might be.” Roman had laughed, teasing without making Patton feel bad, “Each flower has a meaning and when you put them together in a bouquet, you can say a lot of things.”

Patton’s eyes had sparkled, “That’s so pretty! What do those flowers mean?”

Roman had avoided the question expertly, Patton now realised as he thought back on the situation. He’d never found out what those flowers meant, but it didn’t exactly matter right now.

The boy was almost jolted back to the present and his idea was formulated so perfectly in his mind.

“ASHER!” He spun and pointed to his friend, causing them to jump. Patton sheepishly apologised, “Sorry, I just had an idea and I’m excited. Anyway! You know flowers really well, right?!”

“Yeah…?”

“Can you teach me?! I wanna use it!”

Asher glanced between Patton and the board. They tapped just under where Daniel had crossed out ‘Flowers’, “Uh, Patton? We already gave up on that one.”

“Yeah, you said Virgil wouldn’t like the idea of having to keep flowers and that he’d get upset if they died or be too stressed about keeping them alive.” Daniel said quietly from the side of the board.

Patton simply grinned, “Oh, I don’t want to get him actual flowers! I just want to use the language of it!”

Everyone in the room simply looked at Patton in various states of confusion, but before they could even ask what he meant or what his plan was, Reggie and Abigal entered with plates of food. They decided to all take a break to have lunch, letting them all rest their brains for a bit.

Patton couldn’t relax, his brain was churning with how he was going to use everything Asher could teach him. He could do so many things that he knew Virgil would like, and it would be a permanent message for his best friend to keep. If it all went badly, he just wouldn’t let the boy know that the flowers meant something specific. It was going to be perfect, no matter how long it took.

Last Chapter —– Next Chapter

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Abigal and Ayana belong to me. Reggie belongs to @not-so-innocent-bi-sander Daniel belongs to @doces-e--tuga Ana, Em and Asher belongs to @fangsandrainbows Sophia belongs to @notalwaysthevillian

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